Panic Medication
by lilacfrangipani
Summary: Jules has always been the outsider. The loner. No one ever notices her, so why would her crush? But when she sees something she probably shouldn't have, she's drawn into a scary new world she never imagined existed. Among the twists and turns, a dark secret emerges, but can something good come from all the bad? Start of S3, T for language and themes.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my first fic, so sorry if it sucks. The main character is an OC, cause I feel more comfortable writing a new character in than trying to capture the original characters and getting it wrong. Don't worry, the original characters still play a huge part in the story! I'm pretty sure you all know this, but just in case, italics in a paragraph are the characters thoughts. Also, I am from Australia, so the American school system is a foreign creature to me. Sorry if I get anything wrong! Just let me know and I'll fix it ASAP :). Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 1

The class was silent.

Well, relatively silent. The quiet hum of Stiles and Lydia whispering near the window was the only sound. They didn't seem to realise how loud they were actually talking, though I was trying to hear them. And I was sitting behind Lydia.

"What is that? Is that from the accident?" Stiles whispered across the aisle, pointing at a bandage on Lydia's ankle.

"No," Lydia seemed annoyed. "Prada bit me."

"Your dog?"

"No, my designer handbag," her voice dripped sarcasm. "Yes, my dog."

"Has she ever bitten you before?"

_Why so interested, Stiles? Are you doing a paper on animal behaviour? _

Lydia shook her head. "Well, what if it's the same thing as the deer?" Stiles continued. T_hey're talking about the accident. _The news of the freak crash had circulated throughout the school within minutes of first period. It was weird, but Lydia kept up her air of queendom, marching into school with the same amount of confidence as always.

"Maybe it's like how animals start acting weird before an earthquake."

Lydia looked pretty annoyed by now. "Meaning what, there's going to be an earthquake?"

"Maybe it means something's coming. Something bad."

_Yep, definitely writing a paper, _using humour to dismiss my confusion.

"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice-"

**Smack!** A crow flew straight into the window, leaving a bloody smear on the clear glass. Everyone looked up, horrified by the gory view.

Ms Blake walked to the window. She was met by an ominously large murder of crows flying straight at the school building. _What the hell?_

Then glass was flying, along with birds and feathers. Kids were screaming, crying. I was under my desk, watching the feet of my panicked classmates as they desperately sought shelter from the suicidal birds tearing through our classroom. Shredded paper mingled with black feathers on the floor like snow reflecting good and bad.

And then it was over.

I crawled out from under my desk and took in the carnage.

Everything was destroyed. Kids were covered in scratches and tears, carefully standing up like moving too fast might break them.

My book was on the floor, my very own copy of The Fault in Our Stars. It was unharmed apart from a black feather wedged in the pages.

I wiped a single tear from my cheek, all thoughts of the confusing conversation gone from my mind like the feathers drifting in the breeze.

* * *

That night, sitting on my bed, I thought back to the conversation I heard in English. What were they talking about? They seemed to know more about the accident than they were letting on.

"Dinner!" Alice called from downstairs. I rolled off my bed and pulled my headphones out. "Coming!"

"So," Alice begins as we sit down. "Do you want to talk about what happened at school?"

I shrugged. "There's not much to say."

"Jules, hundreds of crows launched themselves into your classroom. I'd be more worried if you weren't upset."

I glanced up to meet my auntie's worried expression. "I'm confused. It was… uncommon. Weird. I'm not traumatised, just weirded out."

"Did you have an attack?"

_Of course. You just had to bring my panic disorder up. _I shook my head. "That's the annoying thing. They're getting more unpredictable. They used to come after I got scared, stressed, nervous, anything like that. Now they just sort of… _come_."

Alice placed her hand over mine. "It'll be fine. Do you still take your medication?"

I froze. Alice was very insistent that I take my meds after I refused counselling. I, on the other hand, was very adamant in my refusal. Despite evening the unpredictability of my attacks out, the Prozac made sleeping difficult, and when I did sleep, my dreams were always weird and confusing. I might hate my panic disorder, but I hate my meds more.

"Julia, you have to take your meds," Alice scowled at me. "Your attacks won't just go away on their own. The Prozac helps anyway, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, helps me not sleep," I groaned. "I can fight the attacks off on my own. I don't need insomnia pills that only help a little bit."

Alice harrumphed. "That's not what Ms McCall said."

I stood up from the table. "I'm not hungry. I'm going to paint. And anyway, it's Nurse McCall, not Miss."

And with that, I ended the conversation we'd had countless times already with the slam of a door, leaving Alice sitting at the kitchen table with two plates of untouched dinner.

That night, however, I took my Prozac.

I didn't sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The bird attack was all people could talk about at school the next day. People who witnessed the attack were being harassed for information. I kept my head down, like always, passing through the halls like a wraith.

I reached my locker and gave myself a once over in the mirror on the inside of the locker door. The mirror wasn't there for vain reasons; just so I could make sure I didn't stand out too much. I had always been great at blending in, going unnoticed, and a low profile makeup job was key.

I self-consciously flattened my blonde hair and checked to see if my contacts were noticeable around my blue eyes. _Stop being so worried_, I told myself. _No one's noticed you since sixth grade. Like that'd change today._

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my English books and headed to the room.

English was uneventful. Most of the people in my class were smart, yet quick to pass judgement. One of the things about being self-conscious is that you are very susceptible to people judging you. So I kept my head down, never raised my hand, and did what was expected.

* * *

I was putting my things away for lunch when I realised I left my dictionary in the English room. I sighed. _To the other side of the school I go._

When I got there, I could hear voices. I was about to go in, despite being terrified of the idea of facing other people, when something one of them said caught my attention.

"A bruise is going to tell me where Boyd and Erica are?"

_Who is that? _The voice was unfamiliar. _And they're talking about the missing kids._ I pressed my ear to the door.

"It's the same on both sides. Exactly the same." _Scott? What's he doing investigating kidnappings?_

"It's nothing," said the unknown voice.

"Pareidolia," piped up a girl. _Lydia?! This is getting weirder by the second._ "Seeing patterns that aren't there."

"Can you try and help?" asked Scott.

"These two?" asked the voice. "This one, who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle, thank you. And this one, who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack."

_What the actual fuck is he talking about? I swear these people must be on drugs_.

A new voice. Stiles. "Alright, now come on, no one died. There may have been a little maiming, a little mangling, but no death. That's what I call an important distinction."

_I'm so confused._

"My mother died." _Allison. The whole crew's having a secret meeting. _

"Your family's little honour code killed your mother, not me," said the man, who was seriously starting to freak me out.

"That girl was looking for Scott. I'm here to help him, not you," Allison continued.

"Wanna help? Find something real."

Footsteps. Coming towards the door. _Shit._

"Give her a chance. They're on our side now." So Scott was with creepy man?

"Maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night," said creepy man. I heard a door open. _Oh god, oh god, they're going to find me. _But it was the other door. I let myself breathe.

The bell rang. _I think I'll get my dictionary later._

* * *

That night, on the way back from dancing, I drove past the abandoned bank. Beacon Hills First National Bank, shut down after a robbery. The place looks like shit and the only people I see going in are squatters and druggies.

Which is why I get very confused when Allison Argent slips in with bolt cutters.

I'm not usually an impulsive person. I think things through. But after the conversation I heard in the English room, it's time for some answers. Now.

Taking a deep breath, I jump out of my car and follow Allison in.

The years of dancing have taught me to be limber, so ducking through the door without making a sound is pretty easy. Following Allison, well…

I can see her ahead, ducking around a corner. I scurry to catch up.

A girl comes out of nowhere, and in seconds her and Allison are having a full on fight. Allison's opponent pins her against the wall.

"Ms Morrell?" Allison gasps. _How many people from my school are living double lives? _I think as I watch the conflict.

"Get in that storage cupboard and lock the door. Don't come out until you hear the fighting start," Ms Morrell orders before running off.

Allison stands there. She looks around her and for the first time sees me standing in the middle of the hall.

We look at each other for a while, both completely at loss as to what to say. Allison looks at me before running up, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the cupboard.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she hisses. "Do you have any idea what you've just stepped into? You could die here, right now, and no one would be able to help you."

I gape at her. "What…?"

She groans. "I'm gonna have to explain it all. Great. But not here. Later."

I simply stand there.

Allison freezes. "Shit." She grabs a bottle of ammonia and pours it near the doorway.

"What are you-" Allison puts a hand over my mouth. That's when I hear the footsteps. Well, footsteps and a tapping noise. I whimper.

Someone stops outside the closet. I hold my breath. Whoever it is pauses for a while before following the sound of receding footsteps.

Allison throws her jacket on the ammonia and pulls out her phone. She shines the flashlight around the room. The light falls on a hunched figure in the corner of the room.

We both squeal and jump back, covering our mouths in disgust. The gory site made my stomach turn. I felt an attack coming on.

"Is that- that's a-" I break off.

Allison nods. "That's a dead body."

"Erica."

* * *

I have no idea how long Allison and I wait, but every minute feels like twenty. I want to claw at the walls, pull down the shelves, get out of this tiny room that houses the body of a classmate. I struggle to keep my breathing under control.

Allison hears it first. Growling, roaring, fighting. She shoots up from where we were huddled and presses her ear to the door. Without saying a word, she unlocks it and runs out.

"Hey, Allison, wait," I scramble up and follow her out. Once I'm out of the room, I feel better, less claustrophobic. Less scared shitless.

That doesn't last long. I watch from a distance as Allison runs up to an open vault. She bends over something on the floor.

"Boyd!" she yells out, before sweeping something away. Before I know it, Boyd and another girl are bursting out of the vault, teeth elongated and eyes glowing yellow. I scream and jump back.

The two psycho teenagers are followed by Scott and another man. The stranger launches himself at Allison, grabbing her shoulders.

"Don't touch her!" Scott yells. He stumbles out towards Allison, bleeding from his stomach and mouth.

"What were you thinking?!" the man screams at Allison.

"That I had to do something," Allison retorts.

"She saved our lives," Scott adds.

"What do you think they're going to do out there? Do you have any idea what we set free?" the man, also bleeding, seemed furious.

"You want to blame me?" Allison was getting worked up. "I'm not the one turning teenagers into killers."

"No, that's your family," he shot back.

Allison took a step back. They hadn't even noticed me yet. I swallowed and stepped forward.

"C-can someone please explain what the _fuck_ is going on here?" my voice shook, despite my attempts at looking brave. "I-I've seen a dead body, people with-with fangs, and you're all bleeding, and-"

I broke off with a sob. The stranger and Scott exchanged a look.

"I'm Derek," said the now not-stranger. "And I think we have a lot to talk about."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Werewolves. Freaking werewolves. In Beacon Hills, of all places. My mind felt ready to explode.

I was sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed. He faced me while he explained all the crazy shit that's been going on. God, was I ready for bed.

"So, you expect me to believe that out of five classmates I've been going to school with since I was six, two are werewolves, ones a werewolf hunter, the other is a psychic, and you're the only human. And Boyd and Erica are werewolves too, except they were captured by a pack of alpha werewolves, and Erica died. Oh, and that dude with the black hair, Derek or whatever, is an alpha, and his uncle was one until he was set on fire and then resurrected by Lydia."

"Pretty much," Stiles said. "Except we don't exactly know what Lydia is yet. And Cora, Derek's sister, and Boyd were kept from the moonlight for a while so they've gone crazy."

I sighed. "I was hoping for a Cosplay party gone too far, but I can try and roll with this."

We were silent for minute, me absorbing the unbelievable information. I'd wanted answers, not more question.

"So, alphas and betas," I said. "Alphas are the leaders, betas are the next step down, and below them are omegas."

"Yep, and betas can become alphas by killing another alpha, and omegas can rise up a level, I think."

I fell back on his bed. "I'm so confused."

Stiles laughed. "I was too. When Scott was turned, he thought nothing was wrong, so I had to stay up researching for him while he slept and did pull-ups. I had a lot of Adderall that night"

His voice washed over me. It sent little twinges up my spine, and it didn't matter what he said. The sound of him talking was enough to make me notice the feelings I had been supressing for almost six years.

"Where's Scott gone?" I asked, pulling my concentration away from my hopeless crush.

"He, Isaac, Derek and Allison's dad have gone to try and catch Cora and Boyd," Stiles explained.

Oh, yeah, Allison's dad hunts werewolves too. No, he's retired. But still helping. Logic.

A shrill ringing interrupted my thoughts. Stiles' phone. "It's Lydia," he said, leaping out of his chair. "I gotta go. Do you need a lift?"

I thought about that. Being in a car with Stiles? Hell yes. But he'd just be thinking about Lydia the whole time. Even my feelings, tough and sheltered, couldn't take that.

"Nah, it's okay, I'll just walk," I replied.

"Okay, see you at school tomorrow," and with that, he was out the door, down the stairs, and in his car.

_So much for being in his room_, I thought dryly as I began the walk home.

* * *

The next day I felt like a train wreck. I got home near three o'clock in the morning to find Alice asleep on the couch. I quietly snuck past her and ran up to my room, hoping my light feet didn't make too much sound on the carpeted stairs. I couldn't sleep, so I painted. For a very long time. I fell asleep next to my canvas, my hands stained with paint, around five o'clock.

I came downstairs after two hours sleep to see Alice sitting at the kitchen counter. Her hands were wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. I tried to walk to the fridge as casually as possible, but her eyes bored into my back. I felt guilt welling up inside me.

"Do you want to tell me where you were last night, Julia?" she interrogated. It sounded like a question, but I knew it was a command. I swallowed nervously.

"At a friend's," I replied, hoping my voice didn't shake.

Alice nodded. "Which friend? And where's your car?"

_No, no, no, don't ask that. _Who could I trust to cover me if Alice went digging around? Suddenly, I knew.

"Allison Argent. You know, she moved here at the start of the year. She's been really nice to me. And my car run out of gas, so Allison dropped me home. My car's at her place." _Come on, Alice, believe me._

She seemed genuinely surprised that I had an answer for her. She probably thought I was out at a party or doing drugs with the hobos near the tattoo parlour.

_Ha, _I thought, grabbing an apple and my bag. "Can you pick up the paints I ordered? From the place near school."

Alice nodded. "Seeya after school then," I chirped. I tried to sound light-hearted, but I was scared of what I would have to face at school today.

* * *

The first thing I noticed was that Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison and Isaac all seemed as wrecked as I felt. Stiles also looked ready to kill, or cry, or both.

Then Boyd walked in and took exhausted to a whole new level.

He looked absolutely horrible. His skin was pale, there were deep bags under his eyes, and he slouched like he was ready to fall asleep on his desk. Luckily, he had some excuse about being sick or something, so he didn't have to run cross country.

I jogged at a half-pace during cross country, letting the cool breeze ruffle my dark brown wavy hair. Scott and Isaac had mysteriously sprinted off after the new twins a few minutes ago, but I really didn't want to know what they were doing. I'd had enough supernatural to last me a very long time.

Yet I couldn't stop the questions from running through my mind. Were the twins involved in this? Were they alphas? Were they part of the creepy alpha pack?

Sighing, I sarcastically thanked my need for answers for dragging me into this mess.

A scream pierced the summer air. I stopped dead on the path and scanned the area for the source. "Over here!" someone yelled from further up the track.

I arrived at the scene to see kids covering their mouths and crying. Well, the girls were crying. The guys just stood there, looking grossed out. I hopped up on my toes, straining to see over the head of one particularly tall junior in front of me.

A dead body. Again. This time a senior from school, hanging limply from a cord around his neck, blood coating the front of his shirt and jeans. No, not a cord. A leash. A dog leash. Delightful.

The guy's girlfriend reached the grisly sight and screamed. Her friend wrapped her in a hug. I wanted to throw up. _No, not now. Don't have an attack now._

The nausea passed. I took a deep breath, calming myself down. Fighting the attacks off on my own was hard, but I'd gotten pretty good at in the four months off my meds.

Stiles, Scott and Isaac were walking away from the group. As Coach Finstock tried to round up the class, I slipped out of the crowd and followed the three boys.

"Am I the only one recognising the lack of werewolfitude in these murders?" Stiles exclaimed.

"You think it's a coincidence they turn up and then people start dying?" Isaac gestured back at the group. _The twins? They're new, maybe they're talking about them._

"No," Stiles countered. "But I still don't think it's them."

"Scott?" Isaac asked. Scott had remained silent through the bickering, and now he looked lost as to what to say.

"I don't know yet," he said eventually.

"You don't know yet?" Stiles repeated sarcastically.

"He's got a point," Scott waved at Isaac. "Seriously dude, human sacrifices?"

Stiles gave him a withering look. "Scott, your eyes turn into yellow glow sticks, okay? Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then immediately disappears and if I were to stab you right now, it would just magically heal. But you're telling me you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices?"

Scott sighed and turned back to Isaac. "That's a good point too."

"I don't care," Isaac sounded dangerous. "They killed that kid, they killed the girl that saved me, and I'm gonna kill them too."

Human sacrifices? Stiles didn't mention any of that in his explanation last night. Why are they keeping things from me? I may be shy, and weird, and have no friends, but I'm not stupid. As much as I hate confrontation, it looks like Scott and Stiles have some explaining to do.

I'm gonna find out the truth this time. All of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Did you purposely not tell me, or did you just forget?"

Stiles and Scott were standing in front of me, looking shameful. I knew people were looking at us, but for once it didn't bother me. I was slowly growing more confident

"We didn't want you to get involved in something that might get you killed," Scott explained.

I laughed humourlessly. "_Not _get me killed? Don't werewolves turn into raging psychopaths every full moon? I think knowing you exist is enough to get me killed. Probably by one of your kind, too."

"We don't go around killing innocent people," Scott argued.

"Yeah, that Peter person killed people who deserved it, did he?"

"You told her about Peter?" Scott looked at Stiles. I felt a strange surge of anger, like I was the one on the receiving end of Scott's accusation. I was about to defend Stiles, but he spoke first.

"Well, he was crazy," Stiles ignored Scott. "Not all of them are crazy. And anyway, this killer isn't a werewolf."

Scott rolled his eyes. "We don't know that yet. It could be."

"Scott, those are human killings. Strangling, head bashing, throat cutting. Werewolves are more into tearing and mutilating," Stiles said.

"Are you on his side or not?" I asked.

Stiles sighed. "Look, Jules, we can explain tonight. Not here though, too many people could hear. Meet in the library?"

"Fine. And explain everything. I mean _everything."_

As I walked off I should've been thinking about finally getting all the answers, but the only thing running through my mind was _Oh my God, I'm going to be in the library with Stiles._

So yeah, those feelings I keep trying to repress? Need more repressing.

* * *

For the second time in not that many hours, I was feeling extremely confused and stupid. Not to mention slow, ignorant, and really embarrassed.

"So, someone's going around ritualistically sacrificing people," I clarified. "And Scott and Isaac think it's a werewolf, and you think it's a person."

Stiles nodded. "Scott isn't sure yet, and Isaac thinks it's the twins," he sat opposite me with Scott to his left. Every time he spoke I got shivers up my spine. _Julia, concentrate._

"What, Ethan and Aiden?" I asked. "Why would they kill someone as a human if they could make it harder for the police to catch them by making it look like an animal?"

"See Scott, Jules understands."

Scott sighed. "We know absolutely nothing about sacrifices. Stiles thinks the people are being killed in threes, the first two being virgins, but this dude wasn't a virgin. So, we're really confused right now."

"Yeah, I know what that feels like," I murmured. "What are we going to do?"

"We have no idea," Scott looked lost. "We have absolutely no idea."

* * *

That night I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling while my mind churned over everything I had found out in the last week.

After finding Scott, Derek and Allison at the abandoned bank, Scott and Allison drove me to Stiles' place in silence. They explained everything from start to end, (or so I hoped). Scott and Allison left after they received worried phone calls from their parents. I remained at Stiles' place, knowing I didn't want to go home and face Alice.

I love Alice. She took me in after my parents died, despite never getting married and telling me on several occasions she never planned on having kids. But she wasn't my mother. They were identical twins, so she looked like her, but she wasn't her. She never could be.

Stiles was the one person who understood. He lost his mother, like me. When his mother died, we would talk some lunch times in the library. He talked to Scott but Scott didn't know what it was like. It helped both of us to be able to talk about it.

Then we got older, and the wounds healed. They left scars, but they healed. We didn't need to talk anymore. We didn't want to. So we didn't.

Now here he is, acknowledging me for the first time in five years, and I felt myself coming out of my shell when I expected myself to retract even further. There was something about this crazy new world I'd stepped into that felt familiar, comforting, in a way the real world lost when my parents died. I felt like I fit in with this world. It didn't make sense, but I felt secure. Like my place in the world was finally beginning to cement.

They introduced me to this world, but after what happened at cross country trials, I was beginning to doubt whether or not Stiles and Scott were being entirely honest with me. They had come clean about the human sacrifices, but who knew what else they were hiding. I didn't want to wake up one morning to find a demon or a vampire in my room.

I sighed. Why did my life have to be so difficult? I know that half of it is my fault, as I chose to recoil into a shell of no-friends, but now all this werewolf stuff? Add my old feelings for Stiles resurfacing while he's in love with Lydia and the thought that he was keeping something from me and the level of complication goes up. A lot.

Rolling off my bed, I went downstairs to grab a snack. Alice was sitting at the kitchen counter with a pen and a huge stack of paper. I laughed. "Put the work down for once, Alice."

"Only if you want us to be kicked to the curb, up to or eyes in debt," she smiled grimly. "I need to get this stuff done or the firm will probably fire me. Anyway, how was school today?"

_Confusing, irritating, complicated, slow and full of werewolves. _"Yeah, good. Handed in my English assignment."

Alice nodded. "Are you going on that cross country thing? It was trials today, right?"

"Yeah," my thoughts skipped back to the dead senior. "But the coach won't let me in because of my attacks."

"Why did you trial then?" Alice frowned at something on her paper before scrawling madly across the page. "Isn't that a bit unfair too?"

"Mandatory. Anyway, I don't care. Having an attack during a race would be beyond humiliating."

"That wouldn't be happening if you were on you meds…"

"I wouldn't be able to run in the first place if I was on my meds," I grabbed my sandwich and started up the stairs.

Alice had other ideas. "Back here, miss. You wouldn't let this conversation happen the other night, so it's happening now."

I slumped into a chair next to Alice. She took her thin glasses off her face, making her look less severe and more like a concerned parent.

She looked right into my eyes. "Look, I know you don't like your meds, but you have to take them."

"They give me insomnia. And I feel all foggy and weird," I took a bite of my sandwich.

"I don't care," Alice put her hand over mine. "Well, I do care, but they help more than you think. It hurts when I spend all of my spare cash on these pills and you don't even take them. Please, Julia. Do you really think your parents would like it if they were alive? Would they let you ignore the problem?"

I stood up so fast the chair fell over. "If my parents were alive, I wouldn't have a problem."

Tears threatened to spill over my lids, but I held them back until I got to my room. Wiping my eyes, I grabbed a brush and my paints, and set to work.

After a half hour, I realised I'd been subconsciously painting Stiles. This time I didn't hold the tears back. I let myself cry over the boy that took my heart without even noticing.


End file.
